Constance managed the tea tray with Rothhaven’s assistance, but the ordeal was nerve-racking. She wanted to grab Reverend Shaw by the lapels and demand to know why he was paying this call, and she wanted to simply stare at her lovely, precious, blushing daughter.

“Elizabeth and I,” Shaw began, clearing his throat, “Mrs. Hodges and I, rather, have discussed Ivy’s situation at some length, and I do value Elizabeth—Mrs. Hodges’s—insights keenly. I read your letter, Duchess, the one in which you admonished Ivy not to embark on a path of dangerous folly. I could have told the girl the same thing fifty times over, complete with citations from Proverbs—I doubtless have, in fact—and she doesn’t listen to me. She listened to you.”

“My duchess,” Rothhaven observed, “has a way of getting to the heart of matters. I ignore her at my peril.”

“Mrs. Hodges has the same effect on me, sir. In any case, Ivy doesn’t want to go to Australia, and I have come upon a reason to delay my own departure indefinitely.”

“Have you?” Constance asked, as the ache in her chest acquired a quality of yearning. “You’ve found a reason to remain in England?”

“Mrs. Hodges has long held my esteem, and I am delighted to learn that my respect for her is reciprocated. I have reason to hope that a courtship will end happily for both of us, though Mrs. Hodges has admonished me that we have much to discuss before that happy day.”

“They are sweet on each other,” Ivy said. “I have to sing as I move about the house, lest I come upon them engaged in shocking familiarities.”

“Ivy, hush,” Mrs. Hodges said, smiling, “or I will tell your mother about the time I caught you waltzing about the upper hall in your nightgown.”

“Perhaps another time,” Constance said. “For the present, I am pleased to hear that Ivy might be in England a while longer.” Heartbreakingly pleased. I will tell your mother.…

Reverend Shaw set down his teacup. “As long as I’m to bide in England for the foreseeable future, and as long as Ivy is desperate to see you, I thought perhaps…”

“Yes?” Constance didn’t recall reaching for Rothhaven’s hand, but his grip on her fingers was snug.

“I want to visit here,” Ivy said, “if it’s not too much trouble. Uncle thinks opening a girls’ school might be God’s plan for him, or Mrs. Hodges’s plan for him. He says other girls haven’t mothers as sensible as my mothers have been, and those girls need guidance and moral examples if they aren’t to make featherbrained decisions.”

Rothhaven topped up the reverend’s teacup. “It’s been my admittedly limited experience that people who have not used up all their patience raising their own children are often marvelously understanding and tolerant of other people’s children. Don’t you agree, Reverend?”